When she said "Thank You".
With a broken heart and a thoughtless mind, I share this incident.
On a rainy day, sitting idly,just thinking about nothing particularly, I decided to call my grandma. Well, she is really something, a one of a kind. A person never gets tired of her talking. Exactly the reason why I decided to call her. And I can't stop being guilty about that.
I dialled her number and it ringed a few times. When she picked up,I spoke happily. She was confused as to who she was speaking and when I told my name, the surprise in her voice made my heart sink. And then the second pang of guilty hit me. Me calling her came across as a surprise? I knew the reason but I was too sad to accept it - the changing shades of humanity.
We talked till our mouths were dry. I missed everything about her. Her laugh,her shabby long hair,her giggles when I tell her my school stories,her school-girl expressions when I talk about boys. She was my mother. Well,she played the role of a mother to me and that too beautifully. The duty of taking care of three children was a tough job. A school-going daughter and two twin-babies, well it sure was tough. So,she handed over me to my grandma because I was the silent one (well that was a misconception, I think). And there the transformation of a grandma to a mother took place.
But why was I too busy to call her?Or even visit her?To check whether she was fine? I still remember those five days that I took an oath to cycle to her house so that I could just see her and talk to her. I still remember how she used to wait by the front door. I still remember the huge smile on her face. But then excuses started popping. I was too tired.So much homework. And then the third pang of guilty hit me.
After a long chat, I told her I was going to visit her on the weekends and we exchanged our share of goodbyes. But just before I was going to hang up, she said "Thank you", I replied confused "For what, Mummy?" (I called her Mummy and my mom 'Amma').
Her reply was this " I know you are busy but still you called. Thanks for spending time..", she hanged up and I knew that she was on the verge of tears. My heart ached. My hands wanted to reach over to her and embrace her like she did whenever I went crying to her. My voice screamed for her to tell her that I loved her. That I loved her more than anything else in the world. That the phenomenon of death scared me only because of the thought of losing her.
There wasn't a day I feared that I would lose her forever. A day that her beautifully wrinkled hands wouldn't be able to caress me. A day that her voice wouldn't be able to soothe me. A day when she wouldn't be able to scold me for cutting my hair short. A day that I hope will never come.
She is my heaven in this messed-up hell. She is my home in this strange world. She is the laughter that fills up my emptiness. She is the pinacle of my confidence,happiness and my life. She and she only is the reason I am standing in this world with my head held high and a smile on my face.
On a rainy day, sitting idly,just thinking about nothing particularly, I decided to call my grandma. Well, she is really something, a one of a kind. A person never gets tired of her talking. Exactly the reason why I decided to call her. And I can't stop being guilty about that.
I dialled her number and it ringed a few times. When she picked up,I spoke happily. She was confused as to who she was speaking and when I told my name, the surprise in her voice made my heart sink. And then the second pang of guilty hit me. Me calling her came across as a surprise? I knew the reason but I was too sad to accept it - the changing shades of humanity.
We talked till our mouths were dry. I missed everything about her. Her laugh,her shabby long hair,her giggles when I tell her my school stories,her school-girl expressions when I talk about boys. She was my mother. Well,she played the role of a mother to me and that too beautifully. The duty of taking care of three children was a tough job. A school-going daughter and two twin-babies, well it sure was tough. So,she handed over me to my grandma because I was the silent one (well that was a misconception, I think). And there the transformation of a grandma to a mother took place.
But why was I too busy to call her?Or even visit her?To check whether she was fine? I still remember those five days that I took an oath to cycle to her house so that I could just see her and talk to her. I still remember how she used to wait by the front door. I still remember the huge smile on her face. But then excuses started popping. I was too tired.So much homework. And then the third pang of guilty hit me.
After a long chat, I told her I was going to visit her on the weekends and we exchanged our share of goodbyes. But just before I was going to hang up, she said "Thank you", I replied confused "For what, Mummy?" (I called her Mummy and my mom 'Amma').
Her reply was this " I know you are busy but still you called. Thanks for spending time..", she hanged up and I knew that she was on the verge of tears. My heart ached. My hands wanted to reach over to her and embrace her like she did whenever I went crying to her. My voice screamed for her to tell her that I loved her. That I loved her more than anything else in the world. That the phenomenon of death scared me only because of the thought of losing her.
There wasn't a day I feared that I would lose her forever. A day that her beautifully wrinkled hands wouldn't be able to caress me. A day that her voice wouldn't be able to soothe me. A day when she wouldn't be able to scold me for cutting my hair short. A day that I hope will never come.
She is my heaven in this messed-up hell. She is my home in this strange world. She is the laughter that fills up my emptiness. She is the pinacle of my confidence,happiness and my life. She and she only is the reason I am standing in this world with my head held high and a smile on my face.
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